


Colours of Autumn

by Enochianess



Series: Gallavich Week 2015 [7]
Category: Shameless (US)
Genre: Domestic Ian Gallagher/Mickey Milkovich, Fluff, Fun, GW2015, Gallavich Week, Gallavich Week 2015, Grumpy Mickey, Idiots in Love, Kissing, Light-Hearted, Love, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-28
Updated: 2015-06-28
Packaged: 2018-04-06 12:38:31
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 752
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4222017
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Enochianess/pseuds/Enochianess
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Gallavich week - Day 7: Imagine your otp</p><p>Prompt: "Person A and B (and C) rake leaves together. Person A jumps into a pile, therefore scattering a lot of the leaves again. Person B’s (and C’s) reaction is up to you but somehow they end up playing with A in the leaves, abandoning their job."</p>
            </blockquote>





	Colours of Autumn

**Author's Note:**

> This is the end! This is the last part of my attempt at the Gallavich week series (admittedly a week late, but whose counting?)
> 
> I hope you've enjoyed reading them all as much as I've enjoyed writing them! I am so, so thankful to all of you who have commented, bookmarked and given kudos; it really does mean the world.
> 
> Feel free to contact me: http://enochianess.tumblr.com

"I can't believe Fiona's making us do this." Mickey grumbled, a cigarette dangling from his chapped lips.

"Technically Mick, you're doing fuck all." Ian replied, dragging the leaves beneath the iron claws towards the slowly building pile. 

Mickey huffed. "Since when have the Gallaghers, or anyone in Southside for that matter, ever swept fucking leaves? Don't tell me Fiona's fucking house proud now, because that's just bullshit. We live in satan's asshole." 

Ian frowned at him. "Hey, it's not that bad."

"So you're planning on sticking round forever then? Here's as good as anywhere?" Mickey retorted, eyebrows raised.

"Shut up and fucking rake. I'm not doing this all myself. It'll take twice as long." 

Mickey trudged over to him, passing the cigarette over, and then grabbed the rake leaning against the side of the house. "Happy now?" 

Ian grinned impishly. "Very." 

"This is your fault y'know." Mickey said lowly a moment later. 

"How exactly? You were the one who wouldn't stop screaming." Ian replied with a smirk.

"Shut the fuck up. I do not scream. I'm a grown man." Mickey snapped.

"Oh, believe me, when I've got my tongue shoved up your ass, you scream like a fucking girl, like you're being torn apart. You go pliant and soft like a little kitten."

Mickey flushed, his raking speeding up and his head hanging down bashfully. "I hate you."

Ian stopped what he was doing and stared at Mickey, leaning heavily on the rod of rusty metal. Mickey looked so fucking good. His hair still mussed up from their rolling around the night before. His lips pouty. His forehead creased in concentration. The muscle of his arms shifting beneath his shirt as he dragged the golden crispy leaves into a pile. 

Ian laid his rake down on the floor carefully, making sure not to make a sound. He walked up slowly towards where Mickey was working, a child-like grin spreading across his face before he jumped into the leaves, sending them flying in all directions across the grass. 

"Gallagher! Are you fucking kiddin' me?" Mickey yelled. "You're such a little shit."

Ian bent down to grab a handful of the leaves and then pulled on Mickey's neckline to shove them down his shirt. 

There was a tense moment where Ian stood panting, a laugh fighting its way up his chest, whilst Mickey stood silently staring at him, his blue-eyes stormy. A few years ago, that look would have terrified him. But not now. Now it just made his stomach flutter wildly, adrenaline spike through his veins, his pulse race. 

"You're fucking dead." Mickey whispered threateningly.

Mickey kicked at what was left of the pile, trying to cover Ian in them. Ian grinned and ran off, a high pitch laugh tearing from his throat when Mickey chased after him, quick on his heels.They ran out the yard and down the back alley, pushing and grabbing and kicking at each other, rough housing like boys were supposed to do. 

Mickey's hand clenched onto Ian's shirt and yanked him backwards until his back bumped into Mickey's chest, his smile wide across his face and his eyes crinkled at the corners. Ian span round and smiled back.

It was nice seeing Mickey like that. Wild and free and happy. His face devoid of all the defences and armour he usually wore. 

Ian dipped his head and pressed his lips lightly to Mickey's, who immediately softened against him with a sigh.

"Can't believe we had to rake fucking leaves because we were fucking too loudly." Mickey grumbled as Ian began kissing and sucking down his neck.

Ian chuckled, his arms wrapping around Mickey's waist and his chin hooking over his shoulder. "She should hear us when I've got you tied up."

Mickey snorted. "Gonna have to find a new place to fuck. Your dick is good, but it ain't worth all this manual labour." 

Ian rubbed the heel of his hand over the front of Mickey's jeans, smirking at the way Mickey's mouth fell open and his eyes squeezed shut. "What was that?"

"Fuck you." He groaned, his eyes snapping back open. He glared at Ian, but there was no heat in it, just affection. 

"Please do." Ian replied shamelessly. 

Mickey rolled his eyes and stepped from the circle of Ian's arms. "Come on, firecrotch. Lets go give Fiona something else to shout about. I'm fucking horny as hell now." 

"I bet I can make you scream in under five minutes."

"Big talk, Gallagher. Big fucking talk."


End file.
